This Side of Love
by icarusfly
Summary: AU. Harry's twin was abandoned after that fateful night on Halloween. Little do people know, she was adopted into the Nott family. Now as Great Britain plays host to a wizarding war, she finds herself tangled in a twisted game with Tom Riddle. But he is not just the senior undersecretary now, is he? / For mature audiences only.


_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Hello dear readers! I've finally plucked up the courage to write this fic - it's been haunting my mind for a while. For clarity's sake, this is an AU where Harry's parents live. He is still the BWL. Voldemort and Tom Riddle are known as two different people to the public. I've tried my best to develop my OC - thought it'd be interesting to write my take a story that's not so white and black.

This story will be dark and twisted. This chapter is just to provide a brief background of sorts to Lucilla. Next chapter, the real story begins. Trigger warning for this chapter: slight gore & sexual assault.

Reviews will be much appreciated!

* * *

 _"When we are born, we cry that we are come / To this great stage of fools" – King Lear (4.6, 165-166)_

Moonlight rippled across the lake, lines of silver darting amongst the dark body of water. The stars were silent, the moon gazed down on such mortal apprehension. The cold didn't touch Lucilla here as she stood in satin as green as the emerald of her eyes. Water lapped at her feet as she waited and waited. From afar she resembled a stone statue, frozen in a world of black and white.

Her unease thickened the air around her. Her fingers clenched at her side. The water around her dropped in temperature.

A tingle travelled across her spine - she felt the wards give way and embrace another. She turned to see lights flare inside the manor. _Finally._ Without a moment of hesitation, she apparated into the parlour.

He was hunched over in a plush armchair, posture tense and laced with exhaustion. Lucilla rushed towards him, sinking to her knees before him. "Oh Theo…" Her arms rested on his thighs as she rolled up his sleeve, her gaze landing upon snake and skull. It twisted against his pale skin, all raw and feverish. It was a sign of limitless power - of a better future to come ( _that's what Papa said_ ). Pride and hidden anxiety filled her at the sight, and she reached up to brush back his hair, mindless of the sweat and blood that matted brown locks. "I knew you could do it. I knew it," she breathed in reverence.

Theodore pulled his arm ( still sore and shooting with pain ) from her grasp and cupped her face in his hands. "So you did wait up as you promised, darling sister." His voice was hoarser than usual, but affection was still there. The sight of her was enough to placate his nerves, to temporarily banish the memory ( such terrible ones ) of the initiation. _For glory. For our Lord_. "Go to bed now. We've got an early start tomorrow."

" _You_ do, but I—" She threw him an impish grin, a ray of light parting dark clouds. As if her brother hadn't just come back from the Dark Lord's trial ( one where lesser wizards found their end ). "I'm going shopping with Astoria."

A tired smile graced his features. "Where — Diagon Alley?"

"Nope. Going to Paris for a few days. I'll bring back some of those pastries you and mama love so much."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, breathing in her scent ( sunlight & peaches, seventeen and so very pure for this world ). "Just be back in time for the party on Thursday."

"Of course, Theo. Papa would have my head if I were to miss it."

* * *

Later that night, she tossed and turned. Sleep escaped her and all she could think about was the mark on her brother's arm. Portraits spied her every move as she tiptoed to his room, crawling into the warmth of his bed. He wrapped an arm around her as she placed her head on his chest. Evidently, sleep escaped the both of them.

"Does… Does it still hurt?" She asked, half out of curiosity, half out of concern.

"Yes." He murmured into her dark hair. His eyes closed and tried to banish the images of cruelty from his mind and tried not to hurl: _his victim a bloody pulp beyond imagination, barely human to the eye. The Dark Lord's approval as thick as honey, as weighty as gold._

"This changes _everything._ " She whispered, warm & content in his arms. Her words sunk into silence as both Notts comprehended the meaning to be one of the Lord's chosen. "I just wish mama could see this…"

Theodore tightened his hold on her and his mouth drew tight. "I know, Lia. But she'll be better before we know it."

* * *

Paris with Astoria — a wry smirk twisted Lucilla's mouth. It couldn't be further away from the truth. Though, a half truth if it could be counted for Astoria _was_ beside her.

Marcus Travers lead the way through twisting corridors, and a gang of fellow pureblood teenagers followed, excitement building in the air as they descended down a gilded lift. Chatter filled the stagnant air — Avery's laughter carried over all conversations as he nearly doubled over at a joke Fawley had told. The lift opened and they spilled out into a dusty, concrete room. Avery still chuckled in the background. Beckett Rosier sniggered along with him.

"What—? Is _this_ the club?!" Pansy questioned, voicing what they all thought as they surveyed the abandoned room. "…Don't tell me someone paid you to kidnap us." Marcus laughed and shook his head before knocking a specific rhythm onto the opposite wall. The concrete shimmered before giving way like a mirage. Two guards stood at the newly revealed entrance and Marcus handed them a fat, velvet pouch. The guards nodded and Marcus grinned at them, motioning to the squad behind him to follow as he stepped straight _through_ the door. Lucilla followed, the door melting away as she seemingly slammed through wood.

What lay before her was chaos.

Her senses were assaulted by thrumming bass and the smell of alcohol as she followed her friends into the crowd. Neon lights flashed and bodies pressed against her, slick with sweat and delirium. Astoria's hand found hers and Lucilla held on tight as they weaved their way towards a raised platform where the VIP booths were. They passed the guards and slid into their booth one by one. Red and purple lights dominated the booth, basking everyone beneath it. Marcus lounged with ease against the leather seats, looking right at home.

"So," Ava Fawley snuggled into Marcus' side. Her almond eyes looked even bigger rimmed with black. "This is where your brothers recommended?"

"Mhmm. It's mighty exclusive. Only the best of the best come here."

Avery snorted in good humour. "Then why did they let _you_ in?" He narrowly avoided the cushion Marcus threw at his head. Avery placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded by such a traitorous act.

"C'mon." Lucilla jumped to her feet, pulling Astoria up with her. "Let's go get some drinks."

* * *

The club, upon further inspection, was more than just a mere club. It was an underground maze, and Lucilla kept finding more rooms and newer sights to amuse herself with. Once she charged upon a room big as a stadium, hosting a round of dirty fighting as the crowd cheered their throats hoarse. Scores were settled and bets were made. She left just as she saw one fighter fall to the ground, bleeding excessively onto the white mat beneath him. Another time, she stumbled upon an empty room and stared with curiosity. However, she knew it served some odd purpose when one patron walked into the centre and disappeared from sight.

Back on the dance floor, the crowd seemed to move as one. The room seemed to be hotter than ever. It was hazy as a dream as Lucilla caught the flash of a vampire's fang. Caught a glimpse of a boy so beautiful he had to be a Veela. Everything else gradually blurred into sensations and colours. It was dazzling and beautiful, ephemeral. There was something about the atmosphere here that banished all reservation. The bass thumped through her chest, an addictive pulse that carried her further and further away from her logic and reason. It fuelled her recklessness, preyed on her urge for euphoria. Preyed on her need to _forget._

Moments later ( minutes? hours? one could not keep track of time here ), empty shot glasses littered the booth's table and Lucilla downed another shot of Firewhiskey. She welcomed the familiar burn. Avery had long disappeared into the crowd to God knows where, and Marcus was currently making out with Ava. Lucilla and Astoria lingered in the other corner of the booth, sitting with bare legs entwined. Astoria rested her head on Lucilla's shoulder, giggling and slurring as she pointed to a girl currently dancing on a platform. "You know what? I reallyyyy like her shoes." Lucilla was just about to reply when Beckett stumbled back into the booth. His pupils were dilated, hair sticking to his forehead as he grinned at the girls. He slumped down onto the seats, sighing as he placed his golden head on Astoria's lap. Lucilla knew he was high with something more than just alcohol and adrenaline.

"I'm gonna go check on Avery — I'll be back soon." She told Astoria before handing Beckett a glass of water.

She had a nagging suspicion Avery was far back on the other side of the room - the one section Lucilla had yet to explore. And it was for good reason, for once she stepped away from the neon lights and into this dimly lit section, a certain darkness rippled. Elegant torches were mounted on the walls and serpents were a constant motif - from the gilded door frames to the marble pattern beneath her feet. She walked the narrow hallway, peeping into open rooms for a certain redhead. Paranoia mounted and she paused in her steps, feeling her gut something was wrong. One foot before the other. One foot before the other.

"Lost, little one?"

The masculine voice had her turning around so sharp it almost gave her whiplash. He was wearing a guard's uniform, the silver patch on his shoulder glinted. She breathed what little relief that brought. "No — but i'm looking for someone." She took a step back just as he took a step forward. Vaguely, she registered the room to her right was closed — could Avery be in there?

"Well, if you help me, I can help you." The man's slick voice sent disgust through her. The twisted intention beneath his words were not lost on her. He backed her against the wall and she was suddenly frozen beneath his gaze. How long had he followed her? She know she should run, or _scream_ at least, but her mouth refused to comply with her brain. "Besides, what's a pretty girl like you doing here?" The guard lifted his hand to her cheek and she flinched away from the touch. "I bet this is your first time here, otherwise you would be smart enough to avoid this section. Not that _they_ are here today, lucky me…"

"Let me go!" Lucilla demanded and shoved at him, panic blubbering in her chest as she felt the man's hot breath on her skin. Her stomach churned and she shoved harder before moving her leg to knee his groin. That, however, was for naught as the man caught her knee in his large hand, face twisted by a violent sneer. His hand inched up her thigh and she twisted in his grasp like a fish ashore —

 _No._

"Please stop…" She whimpered as his nails dug into her skin. His other hand held her wrists captive. "If it's money you want, I'll give it to you." The man only laughed cruelly and pressed a kiss to her neck. The fear clawed at her throat and it overwhelmed all thoughts as he ripped her dress —

The frustration mounted as she couldn't even reach the wand holstered on her thigh. The man's grip tightened and surely it would leave bruises. He couldn't — she wouldn't allow him. A haze settled over her thoughts, and this time she didn't fight it. She saw red as the man began to whisper such filth in her ear, telling her how no one would be here to save her. Something snapped deep inside of her and she snarled, all claw and tooth and nail. _Touch me, you burn._ She felt her magic reaching out, felt it swell and expand with red hot anger. The torches went out, leaving them in a split second of darkness before Lucilla jerked her hands away from his grasp and blasted him away with her searing magic. He was flung like a ragdoll, landing yards away. Lucilla vaguely noticed how the blast shook doors from its frames, how it shattered glass and cracked marble. But she was far from done.

 _Dear Terror… Sing me a lullaby._

The guard was slumped against the wall and Lucilla advanced on him like a creature seeking vengeance. Her magic physically manifested into shadows and tendrils around her, seeping into every nook and cranny. The tendrils thickened and reached out like shadow hands, twisting around the guard's wrist and with a flick of Lucilla's hand, a sickening _crunch_ filled the air as she broke his wrists. " _That's_ for touching me, you sick bastard." Anger drove every thought, she couldn't think of anything but wanting to hurt him.

Behind her, a door creaked open.

The guard cried out for help, but all she was deaf to those pleas.

"And this — so you won't look at another girl again." Shadows twisted and man screamed as she plucked his eyes out. They rolled to the floor, unseeing.

Rapture filled her at such violence and she was more wolf than girl in that moment. Lucilla cocked her head, gazing at the man's bloodied face. _Huh_ , so this is what —

A stunning spell would've hit her straight in the head if she hadn't acted on instinct raising a shield. All the while her wand sat useless in its holster. She turned to face her attacker, hackles raised - was there more than one guard present?

"Lucilla?!"

* * *

Theodore sat at the head of the table, overlooking the meeting as Draco explained the map he had drawn out, debating which action to take next. The rest of the club seemed a world away from their hideaway, the debauchery stopped far from this room. But it was always convenient when they wanted a break. After all, the Malfoys owned this section and they had come here often as teenagers. Now they were all nineteen years old ( or younger, in Draco's case ), the section that once catered solely to their entertainment transformed to their very own headquarters.

Hewer Travers was just about to argue with Draco when Theodore noticed something odd… A black sludge seemed to creep under the door and into the room. When everything was suddenly drowned in darkness, he knew something was off. The whole room seemed to shake in its foundations and the door groaned in protest as _something_ blasted through the section. Yaxley spelled a _Lumos_ and Theodore opened the door, sending a stunning spell to the first figure he saw. It was blocked with stunning precision, and Theodore blanched when he saw the girl turn around.

"Lucilla?!" It was his sister alright, but she wasn't entirely… _there_. One look at the man behind her, at the bruises on her wrist and ripped dress was all he needed to know. Fury burnt through his veins and he would've killed the guard right then and there if it weren't for Lucilla's condition. His darling sister and this… this _sickness_ of hers. She was swaying slightly on her feet, her green eyes glowing, and she seemed to be stuck in a haze of blood lust as she raised her arm, no doubt to cause more harm. He stepped forward without hesitation, motioning the others to stay behind him. The shadows clung to his shoes as he walked. "It's me, Theo." He said gently, reaching for her slowly. She stiffened at his touch, eyes clouding over. "Listen to my voice, Lia. It's me. He won't hurt you anymore. _I won't let him_." He gathered her into his arms, petting her hair as he felt her release a breath of air. His voice cut through the sea of red in her mind like a knife. She seemed to slump into his hold as she gazed up at him, gaining clarity, the shadows and tendrils disappearing as she realised there was no more danger.

"Theo…" She breathed shakily into his chest before a sob tore past her lips. She clutched at him with what strength she had left. Everything was crystal clear now and she swallowed bile as she realised what she had done. "I… I didn't mean to hurt him like that… I just wanted him gone. But I couldn't stop." _Just like before._

"I know. I know," he murmured before placing his jacket over her shoulders. It swallowed her slender frame, covering the rip in her dress. "Yaxley, dispose of the man. Kill him, feed him to the dogs, I don't care. And Hewer? I think you might find your brother lurking around here…"

Theodore swept Lucilla into her arms, carrying her to the fireplace to floo back home.

And after she recovers, he decided, he would ask what in the _hell_ she was doing at the club of all places.


End file.
